


Red Flag

by nevermindgrantaire



Series: She Keeps Me Warm [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Agender Feuilly, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Artist Grantaire, Genderfluid Jehan, Les Amis de l'ABC - Freeform, Multi, Protests, Revolution, most of the Amis are girls in this story, not very romantic, protests gone wrong, well a little anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 13:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2311349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevermindgrantaire/pseuds/nevermindgrantaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"“What the fuck?” Grantaire opens the door with her hair all mussed up from sleep, yawning and looking pissed but the moment she opens the door and sees Courf she opens the door right away and steps to the side so that she can come in. Her face drains pale and she snaps to action, years of practice dealing with situations like this back at home suddenly coming in to focus."</p>
<p>After a protest gone wrong, Enjolras and Courfeyrac end up on Grantaire's doorstep.<br/>It's a tense night and the rest of the Amis are scattered around the city in the middle of it all.<br/>Still, at least some things are going ok.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Flag

“What the fuck?” Grantaire opens the door with her hair all mussed up from sleep, yawning and looking pissed but the moment she opens the door and sees Courf she opens the door right away and steps to the side so that she can come in. Her face drains pale and she snaps to action, years of practice dealing with situations like this back at home suddenly coming in to focus.

Courfeyrac is supporting a pale, dizzy-looking Enjolras on one arm. She has a tiny dark bruise forming over one cheekbone and looks exhausted, her dreadlocks all pulled back and her make-up smudged. Her dark skin is ashy, her huge eyes darting a little. “Sorry, R, this was the closest place we could think of to go. It’s all gone to hell out there, we couldn’t-” She stumbles a little under Enjolras’ weight.

Beside her, Enj looks up and pulls away, not wanting to weigh her friend down. Her red jacket is a little ripped and there is a long scratch on her neckline, as well as a long gash bleeding over her hair and clumping it together like gruesome Brylcreem. “I’m ok, I can stand, I…”

“Give me a sec, what do you need?” Grantaire asks, stepping into the bathroom to grab the medical kit.

The light flicks on and Enjolras stumbles as her eyes try to adjust to the sudden change. She squints at the blurry green and gold-tan shape silhouetted in the darkness until it swims properly into view and solidifies into Grantaire, yawning and sporting circles under her eyes the size of Antarctica. In the corner of the room, a few paintings catch her eye- they are lovely. Life paintings, the skin rendered stroke by stroke, so delicately. She’s never seen R’s paintings before, she realises, but these are impressive. R catches her looking and looks away, blushing a little.

Running a hand sleepily through her short dark hair, Grantaire pulls out a little portable medical kit and comes to join them on the sofa.

“R-” She starts to say, ready to apologise for waking her up and bothering her at this time of night although really she should have been at the protest, she said that she’d be there… Although it’s better now that she wasn’t there looking at the way it ended up.

“Sit down, look at the state of you!” R cuts her off and darts towards her, cutting her off just as her knees give way and why are they doing that?

Dizzily she brings a hand up to her forehead and there’s something on there. Oh dear, that’s not right. That’s not… Normal.

She blinks fast. “R, my forehead’s wet.”

“Yes, I can see that. Sit.”

“I’m not a… Not a puppy, R.”

“I don’t care, sit. What the hell were you thinking?”

Enjolras lets herself be prodded and poked around by Grantaire without complaint for approximately five seconds before she starts kicking up a fuss. “Ow!”

“Oh, stop whinging, it’s your own fault.”

Enjolras doesn’t reply, just narrows her eyes. There is a brief spell of silence, while R tries gently to clean the blood out of her hair and find the wound, before she starts fidgeting again.

“Would you just hold still!”

“Aren’t you meant to be nice to me? I’m your patient, after all.”

“If you wanted a doctor, you should have gotten Joly.”

“Joly actually showed up to the protest like she said she would, unlike someone I could name.” She shrugged, trying to hide her worry. “Ow! She’s out there right now somewhere.”

“Christ.” R mutters to herself, and holds out the bottle of Savelon, dabbing it onto a tissue. “You’re all going to get yourself killed at this rate.”

But when she’s started she can’t stop and once she’s started questioning Grantaire she’s like a dog with a bone and she just won’t let it go. “Why didn’t you show?”

“I had work I needed to complete. A gallery deadline.”

“Oh, bullshit.”

“Oh, fuck you Artemis. Not everyone has their rich parents to fall back on if things don’t work out, ok, some of us need to work for a living.”

“Well then maybe you should have chosen a more realistic major.” Enjolras knows that she sounds like a complete moron, she knows that she’s testing the person who is helping her but frankly she’s tired and frustrated at the world and she wants to take it out on someone.

Grantaire doesn’t rise to the bait, just presses the savelon-soaked cloth a little harder than perhaps was necessary into the wound on her head and smiles sadly, sarcastically. “I wish I could have met your incredibly high standards, o fearless leader. If I’d known that I would have to starve myself, lose my rent money, for this bloody cause of yours I would have worked harder.”

“Maybe if you didn’t drink away your pay check-” Enjolras starts to say and Courfeyrac slaps her. “What the fuck?”

Courfeyrac rubs her hand, leaning against the sofa arm and scowling. “Don’t be a bitch, Enjolras.”

The blonde girl doesn’t say anything, just looks at the floor. Grantaire can’t tell if she’s ashamed of herself, or truly sorry, or whether she just doesn’t want to get slapped again.

Shutting her eyes for an instant, Courf takes a deep breath. “I’m really sorry, R. I hate to ask you this, it’s just… It’s gone to hell out there. It was all going ok, Enjolras was speaking and it was brilliant, you should have been there but then the cops showed up and I don’t know why because we didn’t do anything wrong but they were looking for an excuse to kick off and they just…” She gestures, and Grantaire bites her lip. “Everyone went wild, we lost the others in the crowd. Anyway. If E behaves, can we just stay here a while? We won’t disturb you or anything, I promise!”

“Of course!” Grantaire says and slaps a plaster onto E’s forehead. She is being less than gentle, and Enjolras slaps at her hand ineffectually.

“Ow,” She complains, and then to Courfeyrac, “I don’t want to stay here. We can still help out there, we can-”

“No we can’t. Not if we don’t want to get arrested. Or killed.”

“But-”

Grantaire shuts her down effectively this time. “There are police out there, and people are getting hurt. People are getting hurt enough to go to hospital. I know you want to die for your people and all, but if you take one step outside that door… I will be forced to sit on you.”

With a huff, Enjolras slouches back on the couch and glowers as Grantaire slides across the sofa to see to Courfeyrac. “How about you, are you hurt?”

“Not too badly, no.” Courf says with a smile and then winces, hand tensing and fluttering towards her ribs.

R frowns. “Liar.” She places a hand over her t-shirt, feeling along each rib for breaks, and then catches the edge and slides it up slightly. It takes a lot of effort to not gasp at the sickly black bruise that is spreading already over her skin. “Oh my god. We need Joly.”

“No, we don’t- I’m fine. I’m ok!”

“Amelie de Courfeyrac if you don’t sit the fuck down and give me your phone right this instant I will phone Combeferre instead.”

She gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.”

Enjolras is watching the exchange with a moody pout on her face. “You didn’t tell me you were hurt,” she says to Courf as she flops down on the sofa beside her and then winces again.

“I’m not. I’m fine.”

“Well, obviously not.” There is a pause. “I’m so sorry, Courf. I didn’t want it to end up like this, it was meant to just be a peaceful protest, I don’t know how-”

“It wasn’t your fault,” says a reassuring voice and Enjolras frowns because that wasn’t Courfeyrac, that was Grantaire and she never says things like that ever. “I mean. You had the right intentions and no one holds you to blame for what happened.”

She looks sharply at Grantaire, who is scrolling through the address book in Courf’s phone to try and find Joly’s number with one hand and preparing an icepack in the other. Her face is turned away but she looks lovely in the sort of half-light and Enj can tell she’s biting her lip and worrying about her other friends and…

“Shit…” R murmurs.

“What?”

“Ep, Cosette, Marius and Musi. They’re caught up around the back of Clifford Street, the police have blocked it off and they won’t let anyone through. Ep’s hurt, they think she twisted an ankle but she’s mobile.”

“Shit,” Courfeyrac runs a hand through her braids awkwardly, the slope of her shoulders and the tilt of her head screaming tiredness. “Any word from the others?”

“I sent out a group text to everyone but they’re the only ones to reply-” The phone blooped. “Oh, no, wait. It’s from Feuilly, zie’s ok! Zie’s with Ferre, they… narrowly missed getting arrested and are hiding out in a café on South Avenue. The police got Bahorel though, he’s been carted off to God knows where, and we’ll have to go bail him out tomorrow morning, I guess.”

“Nothing from Joly, Musi or Bossuet then? How about Prouvaire?”

“Nothing yet.”

Courf nods. “We’ll be here a while then, I guess. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I-” She doesn’t seem to know what to do. “Are you sure? Nothing from Jehan?” Enjolras puts a hand on her arm.

Grantaire flops into the seat and puts a hand over her forehead. “Christ. I’m sorry, I should have come out with you tonight. If I’d helped a little more, instead of-”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Enjolras struggled to sit up. “I’m the one who pushed this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“But I did, didn’t I? I started it all and now people are getting hurt.”

“You wanted to change the world. It won’t come easy, will it?”

“Shit.” Enjolras squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m not… We’re not going to make it, are we?”

Grantaire’s eyes widened. “Yes you are! God, E, I’ve never seen you like this before. We can do it, we will do it, just you wait and see!”

“Ha,” E mutters. “You don’t believe in any of it anyhow. You’ve been proved right, isn’t this what you wanted?”

There is a pause, a long pause and Enjolras is about to open her mouth to apologise because that was harsh, that was taking it too far but then suddenly she is enveloped in a huge warm “Shut up,” Grantaire smiles and she looks at her and bites her lip and it’s ok for a moment, everything is ok and E tilts her head up and she’s so close the air feels sweet and happy and-

The phone bloops.

R scrambles for it instantly, eyes wide. “Oh crap, fuck, no.”

“What? What is it?” Courf pops her head round the kitchen door, the coffee pot falling loose in her hands.

“Jehan. They lost them in the crowd for a second and when they found them again they’d gotten hurt. They didn’t say how badly, just…”

“Jehan, no!” Courfeyrac half shouts and she bites her lip so hard it almost bleeds.

Enjolras is up in a flash. “I’m going back out there, I can find them, help out!”

“No you are not, sit the fuck down, you’re hurt.” Grantaire snaps, already picking up her jacket. “It’s time I did something to help out here. I’ll go and bring them back here.”

Behind them, Courf is shaking, white as a sheet and hugging herself like a child.

“Courf? You ok?”

Wide eyed, Courfeyrac does not look in the right world. “What if something bad has happened to them, Aire? What if they’re… hurt bad?”

R takes a deep breath. “Pray.” She says frankly, snatching her keys. “Enjolras, look after her, your head should be mostly ok by now.”

“But-”

“Do what I say this once, Artemis, trust me just this once and I promise you won’t regret it. Please.”

Finally, with a brief nod, Enjolras sits down again and Grantaire leaves.

The door slam seems the loudest possible thing inside Courfeyrac’s head.

The vacuum of silence once she’s closed the door behind echoes around the room. Enjolras tilts her pounding head up to look at Courf who is still stood in the doorway shaking slightly. “How could it go this wrong?” She sighs.

“I… they… Jehan can’t be hurt.”

Enjolras bites her lip. “God, R could be killed out there, why didn’t she let me go instead?”

“I can’t believe this, I must be dreaming.”

“Oh, god… This is all my fault.”

There is a beep sound from somewhere, and E’s head snaps up, looking round for the phone. “R didn’t take it with her!” She mutters angrily, answering. “Hello?”

“Who is it?” Courf asks. She is still shaking.

“Oh god, I’m so glad you’re ok! It’s Feuilly and Ferre…” She pauses, listening. “Yes. No, right. Courf’s here with me, we’re fine. Listen, Jehan got hurt and R has gone out to look for them. It’s all getting messed up and I can’t do anything.” Another pause. “Christ. Ok, look get over here as soon as you can, we’re camped out at R’s place. Courfeyrac is losing her shit, I’m freaking the fuck out… I need you here.”

“I’m fine, Enj.”

“No you’re not shut up.” Pause. “Ok. Yes, ok. I love you, Ferre. See you soon.” She hangs up.

“So?”

“There’s trouble down their end as well, Ferre was trying to help people who were getting wounded in the gas attacks but there are too many and the police are closing in so they’re going to make a break for it round the back of New Street and get here.”

“Right.” Courf takes a deep breath through her teeth.

“Come, sit. There’s no point freaking out about something that hasn’t happened yet.”

Courfeyrac’s face looks so much younger than the loud, charismatic, cheerful girl that brags about her conquests in the Musain when she’s drunk and loves karaoke with an indescribable passion. She slips into the seat beside E, tucking her legs up and biting her painted thumb nail like a little girl. Pink and yellow and blue, the colours of the pansexual flag, Enjolras notices and smiles. She loves how… confident in herself her friend is. How unafraid she is.

Courfeyrac doesn’t look unafraid now. Her dreadlocks are falling loosely across her face and in the half-light Enjolras can see a little smudge of blood on her cheek. “They’ll be ok, won’t they?”

“Yes,” says Enjolras and pulls an arm around her, even as she is thinking of dark hair and green clothes and tan skin that glows under lights and makes her head hurt. “They will be.”

There is quiet in the flat after that, calm after the storm if the tentative silence that smothers everything can be called calm. Enjolras bites her lip and she can feel Courfeyrac shaking through the thin, slightly damp fabric of her “ask me about my dinosaur” shirt.

She stays still in the almost silence, listening hard for the noises outside, the smashing and police sirens and yells.

 

****

 

When the fragile still is broken, it’s like a sledgehammer through a mirror and the door bursts open in a swirl of noise and shouting. Jehan has one arm round R, limping hard, and behind them are the others, Joly and Musi and Combeferre and Feuilly and Marius and everyone. They all crowd into the tiny little flat in a mess of contrasts, half subdued from the way that the protest had gone and half buzzing from the atmosphere.

Joly is excitedly telling anyone who will listen. “When we left, everyone was chanting and shouting about equality for everyone! It was brilliant!” She’s bouncing on the balls of her heels, her glasses broken and she can hardly see a foot in front of her face without them but she’s twisting her hands into the corners of her cardigan and she is grinning like a Cheshire cat. One arm is thrown haphazzardly around Musi when she tells Enjolras “We could really make something of this!”

Courfeyrac is instantly up like a shot, hurtling over to Jehan and tripping on the rug in her haste to get to them. “Oh my god are you ok?” She squawks and Jehan flaps a hand at her a little airily.

“I’m fine, it’s just a sprain and a bit of a scrape.” She pauses. “It would have been worse if it wasn’t for R.”

Courfeyrac seems to be not quite on this planet. She is smiling, her face ready to split with happiness and she’s bouncing on the spot too. “I’m glad you’re here, love,” she says and R easily lets her swap places assisting Prouvaire to the couch with a smile.

Jehan just smiles and presses their face into her neck, letting her lower them gently down and then pulling her down amongst the cushions too.

Enjolras stands up a little shakily. “Is everyone else alright?”

There is a chorus of “Fine!” around the room. Eponine is nursing a gash in her arm, apparently caused when someone threw a bottle into their side of the crowd and it splintered, and R is yawning now and nursing her head.

Enjolras sidles up to her awkwardly and gives her a smile. “Thank you,” she says, a little uncomfortable. “And sorry we’re sort of taking over your house.”

Grantaire gives her an exhausted grin. “It’s alright, they are my friends too, I suppose. How are you feeling, o fearless leader?”

“I’m not…. Never mind. I’m… Tired. And scared.” She pauses. “It didn’t work out how I wanted it.” She doesn’t know why she’s blurting all this out to Grantaire of all people but somehow it feels ok.

R nods and shrugs. “This is what it’s going to be like. You want to make a difference, there will be lots of nights like this. People will get hurt. People might die. But in the end… It might come through. It might work out.”

“What happened to ‘It’ll never work, you’re all stupid! I don’t believe in anything.’?” It’s not meant to be confrontational, merely curious, but it comes out like that.

As always, R just laughs at her. “I never said that. And anyway.” She leans close, her breath ghosting along Enjolras’ neck and tickling the tiny hairs. “I believe in you.”

And then she’s pulling away and announcing to the room in general. “I’m going to bed. You can crash here if you want, blankets are in the trunk under there.”

Joly nods. “Thanks, I wouldn’t fancy my chances out there right now!”

From her perch on the sideboard, Bossuet eyes her up and down. Tiny little Joly would be stampeded out there. It’s a wonder she hasn’t been already. “Neither would I. Come on, let’s sleep.”

Enjolras watches her snag Joly around the waist and pull her up onto the counter with her, catches sight of Prouvaire and Courf just sat on the couch and just enjoying the closeness for once, and she feels almost detached from her group of friends for once- they’re all talking, hugging, sharing stuff about the protest- and she doesn’t notice Grantaire hovering behind her.

“Enjolras,” she hears suddenly and her head snaps round. “Jeez, calm down. You're all tense."

“What do you want?”

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine." She forces herself to smile. "Just a bit out of sorts. It's been a dramatic day."

Grantaire nods in agreement. "Yeah."

"Anyway, did you want something, cos I'd better go if I don't want Cosette to nick all the good blankets." She nods her head over to where Cosette is snuggling under a pile of about six blankets while Eponine and Bossuet try to barter them off her.

“I… just wanted to ask if you wanted to bunk with me. That’s all. You look like you need the sleep, and if you’re going to be ordering the counter-revolution tomorrow you need to-” She says all of that in a rush and then trails off a little sadly. “But if you want to stay out here, that’s fine, I know we haven’t exactly been, you know. I just-”

“R?”

"- wanted to offer, I mean I know I only have a double bed so we'd have to share and it might be a bit awkward but at least it'd be a real bed instead of the couch or a made-up camping bed on my floor or something, and I don't snore or anything I promise and-"

"Grantaire!"

She looked up through her lashes. “Yes?”

“That would be brilliant.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is courfeyrac's shirt i'm sorry i couldn't help it i love this shirt so much- https://img1.etsystatic.com/015/1/7629672/il_570xN.424405197_6ecv.jpg
> 
> this could sort of be considered part of my She's All I Need verse but then again maybe not.
> 
> I hope you liked it! I can be found at loveprouvaire on tumblr if you care :)


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